


Awful, No Good, Very Bad Day

by Ladycat



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Established Relationship, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-11
Updated: 2014-02-11
Packaged: 2018-01-11 23:58:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1179488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladycat/pseuds/Ladycat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You know, this aspect of your personality is incredibly annoying. Who knew you could be such a needy bitch?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Awful, No Good, Very Bad Day

"Go away."

Rodney crossed his arms, surveying the messy heap of blankets on the bed. He knew Sheppard was in there some where, since there was a vaguely body-shaped lump that was bigger than all the other lumps. He wasn't entirely certain, though, since the Colonel usually slept all stretched out and on his back. Not... on his side? And curled up?

This was ridiculous. "No, I am not going away," he snapped. "And if this is indicative of what your teenage years were like, I wonder how it is you survived them."

A small tuft of hair, not as spikey as usual which was actually a little more worrisome than the teenaged-angst look, appeared. Ah, so he was in there, with his head somewhere close to the pillow. Not on it, though. And he _was_ curled up, which was probably not a good sign. Sheppard's voice was a little clearer as he said, "How I survived?"

"Yes! Survived! Because if I'd pulled stunts like this during my adolescence -- which, granted, was spent taking college correspondence courses until I was sixteen and could actually finish my last year at university so I was a little too busy to mope around like the world was about to end anyway -- my mother would have _killed me_. I'm shocked yours didn't. Get up, Colonel!"

"No." That was muffled again, as Sheppard's hand flashed out to tug the blankets back up over his head.

Rodney scowled. He wasn't good at this stuff. This was psychology and understanding human nature and understanding _Sheppard's_ nature and asking questions about feelings. He had no idea how to even begin going about it -- and worse, it was _Sheppard_. The man had raise laconic to an art form, and Rodney had heard about his little conversation with Teyla when they'd gone to rescue Ronon. Suggesting they drive hot pokers into their arms would elicit a better response than 'tell me what's wrong with you, so I can fix it'.

Sheppard still hadn't moved, though. "Are you -- " Rodney took a step forward. "Are you _breathing_ in there?" Another step. "Colonel?" One more. His knees brushed the edge of the mattress. "Sheppard? Hello, anyone in there? You are still in there, right?"

Crap. Sheppard was actually going to make him do this, wasn't he?

Sighing gustily, Rodney toed off his shoes and slipped under the covers with Sheppard. Well. He tried to slip gracefully, but Sheppard had a death grip on the covers so it took yanking and cursing under his breath and generally hating life, this galaxy, and Sheppard in particular before he finally managed to get into bed.

Sheppard was curled up. He felt a little too warm, but Rodney figured that was from being under three covers long past Sheppard's normal 0530 wake up. It was almost _1000_ , for God's sake!

Shifting and muttering, Rodney got himself onto his side. Sheppard's back was curved against his front. Not a bad start, but clearly not what was necessary; Sheppard hadn't told him to go away or tried to kick him, at least, but he hadn't gotten up either.

"You know, this aspect of your personality is incredibly annoying. Who knew you could be such a needy bitch?"

"McKay." No exasperation, or irritation, or annoyance, or even the bizarre fondness that always colored any of the above emotions. Just a flat, simple word.

"Seriously. Needy. Bitch." Rodney made sure his words were caustic because anything else would've been too much for _him_ to handle. But he was gentle as he took Sheppard's -- John, now, since they were definitely off the clock -- unresisting body and rolled him, pulling him closer until he could feel John's breath on his neck.

The seconds ticked by. This _had_ to be the right thing to do, because everything else Rodney had tried hadn't worked. And -- and it didn't take a genius, even one who was _good_ with people, to figure out what had prompted this. Missions like yesterday's would rattle anyone. It was why he _hadn't_ gone with John right afterward; Rodney knew what he was like after a bad day and the last thing he wanted was to take it out on someone he actually liked.

His minions were fair game, of course. So was Carson and his beautiful, beautiful stash of sedatives.

Almost thirty seconds had vanished, and Rodney was starting to think even if he was doing everything right it still wouldn't matter -- when Sheppard sighed wet and broken into his neck, body uncurling long enough to re-curl around Rodney's, their chests flush together, legs tangled, arms holding onto Rodney as tightly as Rodney held onto him.

"Bad day," John said. His voice traced through Rodney's body, vibrations creating strange highlights. Oddly enough, it reminded him of the cathedral he used to go to as a child, the one with the high vaulted ceiling that he used to shout into to do wave experiments.

At least, that's what he'd told people. And he _had_ done experiments. But he'd also loved the way the light shafted through dark wood, dust motes dancing, turning his boyish glee into something he felt in his bones.

John's voice was like that, only the sunshine was all blotted out.

Rodney buried a hand in John's hair, pulling him in more tightly. He was probably mashing Sheppard's face, but there was no complaint. Just another sigh and cuddling infinitesimally closer.

"Yeah. Bad, bad day."

"Today'll be better, right?"

"Actually, I'm thinking tomorrow could be better. Today..." Rodney let his voice trail off. "Today, I thought, maybe we could take the 'jumper out to that one beach you found, even though yes, I know, I hate the beach, but if I bring a big enough blanket I can keep the evil, evil sand away and -- "

John interrupted him with a kiss. He tasted bitter from sleep and a hint of alcohol, which had Rodney clutching him tighter because John hardly ever drank, but his mouth was soft and pliant and it said everything.

Afterwards, John tucked his head back underneath Rodney's chin. "We could stay here, too. Right?"

"Really, I have no idea how you survived adolescence. No idea at all." John huffed a laugh, but remained quiet while Rodney fumbled for his radio. "Elizabeth? Yeah, I know I said we'd need one day off, but I think we're going to need two. Yes, Lorne can handle it for two days. Oh, please, like Zelenka won't come running to me if there's a catastrophe _anyway_. Yes, I -- well, of course -- Elizabeth! Barring monsters or cataclysmic system failure, John and I not available! Don't pay us for two days, if it's really a problem!"

Dropping a kiss on Rodney's collarbone, John reached up and plucked the radio out of his hand. Elizabeth's confused ramble was cut off, replaced with Lorne's quietly professional, "Yes, sir?"

"Lorne, would you please escort Doctor Weir to someplace that _isn't_ her office? Anyplace. The beach. I don't care if you have to abandon her there, provided there are supplies. Notify whoever you need to. Senior staff is taking a weekend, and you kids have to promise not to throw any wild parties when we're away. Understood?"

John tilted the radio up and out so Rodney could hear Lorne's response, a chuckle that was almost insulting given how much relief was mixed in with the amusement. "Yes, sir, I understand completely. We'll take care of it."

"Call us if there're monsters," John added, slurring a little as he toggled the radio off. "Mm. No beach. Just sleep. Maybe sex a little later. Sandwiches. Then maybe some dvd's. _Buffy_. I traded with Simpson for season three. Okay?"

Rodney scrunched a little further down on the bed, kissing John's temple since it was all he could reach. "Sounds perfect."

"Good. Now shut up and go to sleep, McKay."

"And you wonder why people think we're together."

"We _are_ together."

"I meant in an old married couple way."

"Because I tell you to shut up? Saints would tell you to shut up."

" _Feeling_ the love," Rodney snapped back, but he was smiling and he could feel John's sleepy, contented grin against his neck, too. Who needed to actually _say_ what they felt for each other when insulting each other was so much more effective?

Letting his eyes slide shut, Rodney breathed out slowly. Yesterday had been an awful, no good, very bad day. But if it got him two days of uninterrupted time with John, well. It couldn't have been _all_ bad.


End file.
